


and the whole wide world is whistlin'

by something_pithy



Series: pick a petal [2]
Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: Banter, Dancing with Tourists, F/M, Friendship is Magic, I Am Literally Just Writing Nonsense at This Point, JJ Agrees, JJ Does Not Agree, JJ Is Also a Nugget, Kids Around a Bonfire, Kie Is Still a Nugget, Meditative Fluff, There Will Be Beer, Toothache warning, Unresolved Romantic Tension, inner monologue, somebody stop me, what are tags even
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:41:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23902525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/something_pithy/pseuds/something_pithy
Summary: Part of the thing with Kie was the way she couldn’t hide a fucking thing she was thinking or feeling to save her life – those wide, doe eyes could light up like a Christmas tree when she was happy or like a fuse when she was pissed. With a look, she could make you feel like you were about to be put on a time-out, or like it was time to gut whatever motherfucker had put the tremor in her lip and the ache in her eyes – even if you were the motherfucker.
Relationships: JJ Maybank/Kiara Carrera, JJ/Kiara (Outer Banks)
Series: pick a petal [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722859
Comments: 24
Kudos: 191





	and the whole wide world is whistlin'

**Author's Note:**

> TBH, I still have no idea how to do a summary. :D 
> 
> This little vignette is set maybe two months after the end of _The Prodigal_.
> 
> I hope you enjoy! <3

For once, JJ wasn’t in the thick of the party.

His dad was back on his bullshit, and when Kie had picked him up to head to the beach, there must have been something left on his face, in his eyes, because she didn’t even rag on him for making her wait. Instead, though, she’d cast him a side-long glance, gave him a little half-smile, and said in a sing-song little voice, “I got you something… Well, made you something," she amended.

He looked at her sideways, squinting slightly. She still felt guilty about the Kook shit. He wished she’d fuckin’ stop, because he got it. He also wished she’d tell him which Kook fuck had fucked with her, but she was a hundred percent stonewalling him on that front, and it must have been seriously on the low, because nobody he’d talked to knew anything about Kie and any dude on the island.

Piece of shit probably had a girlfriend.

But that was another story – one he’d get to eventually. But it had been two fuckin’ months, and she still kept being just a little too nice to him. Nothing weird, but – she didn’t rag on him as much, she’d go out of her way to get him a beer, circling back around to him more than usual at parties. No matter how many times he’d told her it was fine, it was like –

But then her hand was in his, pressing something into his palm, then giving it a squeeze. He squeezed back, his thumb skimming the soft skin of her fingers before she put her hand back on the wheel, revealing a red woven bracelet.

“What’s this?” he asked as he picked it up, looking at it, a half smile forming on his lips without really realizing it.

“Red’s your color,” she said with a smile, her eyes on the road. “I know you can’t stand that I’ve been being weird, and I really can’t stand it either, but it’s almost like I can’t help it – like, I need to make it up to you or something –”

He groaned and tilted his head back, smacking it against the headrest.

“Jesus goddamn Christ, Kie –”

“I know, I _know_ ,” she said, laughing. “So I figured if I just make one corny, heartfelt gesture of love and friendship, I’d get it out of my system, and then we could go back to roasting each other and laughing and never talking about _feeeelings_.”

She wriggled the fingers of her right hand at him then, like she was casting a spell.

“Well thank Christ for that,” he said. “I mean we all know you’re sappy as shit, but usually you’re more low key about it.”

She laughed. “Shut the fuck up, JJ, or I’m gonna start writing poems about friendship and tenderness and sing them to you next time you’re macking on a Touron.”

“I thought you said you wanted to show me we were friends,” he said, looping the bracelet around his wrist as she pulled up to the beach. “That’s some straight up nemesis shit.”

“That’s a pretty big word for some punkass from the Cut,” she told him as she put the car into the park and turned it off.

“Yeah, well, we got us some real good book larnin’ out here. Even got a school an’ everythin’,” he said with an exaggerated drawl.

She laughed at him and reached for his wrist.  
  
“Gimme that,” she said, taking the ends of the bracelet from him and tying it in what looked like a pretty intricate knot. Her fingertips brushed the inside of his wrist.  
  
He kept very, very still.

“There,” she said once it was done, putting her hand over this wrist for a moment and looked into his eyes, half-smiling before she sat back, her hand slipping away.  
  
He tugged at it; it was loose enough to be comfortable, but tight enough that it wouldn’t come off without some serious effort.

“If you wanna get rid of it, you’re gonna have to cut it off,” she told him, her smile slight and soft.

He looked at her for a minute; wet his lips.

“Thanks, Kie,” he said finally, quietly.

“You’re welcome, JJ,” she said just as quietly, though her smile was a little wider now, affectionate, warm.

“Does this mean we can go get drunk now?” he asked.

“God, I hope so,” she laughed, turning away from him to open her door. “C’mon, beautiful Tourons await!”

\--

He wasn’t with the beautiful Tourons, though.

He was sitting by the fire, drinking a beer, watching Kie.

Part of the thing with Kie was the way she couldn’t hide a fucking thing she was thinking or feeling to save her life – those wide, doe eyes could light up like a Christmas tree when she was happy or like a fuse when she was pissed. With a look, she could make you feel like you were about to be put on a time-out, or like it was time to gut whatever motherfucker had put the tremor in her lip and the ache in her eyes – even if you were the motherfucker. 

And he was pretty sure she wasn’t scared of shit – mostly because she’d lived a life where she hadn’t yet learned how much shit there was to be scared of. Now and then, he envied that – the way she really believed in the good of anyone she met until they proved her wrong, and sometimes even after that. But it wasn’t just naivete – the girl would step into the middle of any fight even though she’d never thrown a punch in her life. She believed in peace, but she’d also jump on the back of any Kook who came for her friends, probably set shit on fire to protect the people she cared about.

He smirked to himself as he watched her.

Sure, there were times when he had to roll his fucking eyes at how she’d get so into being the “voice of reason,” or the moral authority. There were so many absolutes for her that made no sense in the actual real world; she didn’t even realize how her nice, respectable parents and their nice, respectable home, and their nice, respectable life were based on rules that didn’t apply when there was nothing nice or respectable about the world. Not really.

Except her. She was nice and respectable.  
  
But – no. Not really. She was _good_ , not nice. She was honest, and loyal as fuck, and would fight til she was bloody for what she believed in – which deserved respect, but was worth a fuck of a lot more than being “respectable.”  
  
Which was why he didn’t mind it – not really – when she was in mama mode.

Which wasn’t all the time – she smiled a lot, always wide and full and real, crinkling the corners of her eyes. And her laugh – when she was laughing, it was hard not to join in, because it was always clear and full and honest as she was.  
  
He fingered the bracelet she’d given him absently; it still was still a little stiff – new, almost formal. Soon, though, it’d soften, loosen up a little, get more comfortable.

She was laughing now, dancing with some Spring Breaker Tourons who’d made their way to the beach, long, graceful limbs putting these Yankees to shame as she moved like she was made of rhythm, her untamed curls haloing her face, swirling around her in the firelight.

He wet his lips.

There were a few of them, a couple of dudes awkwardly trying to keep up, and a cute little blonde that was doing a way better job, almost matching Kie move for move, but not quite making it. As Kie tossed her hair, smiling closed-lipped but warm at the girl, and he couldn’t tell if there was a challenge or an invitation in that look, but he didn’t have time to think more about it because she must have caught him out of the corner of her eye.  
  
Her focus landed on him then, and there they went, eyes igniting with excitement, and maybe a little up-to-no-good, crooking her finger at him as she left the girl to dance her way over to him. He was already shaking his head, smirking his way out of a full on smile, because hers was wide and pure and fucking infectious.

Goddamn, that fucking smile.

“Nope,” he said, still shaking his head as she plucked his beer out of his hand, took a swig, then offered him both her hands. He took them, but made no move to get up, smirking up at her.

She laughed, then, pulling at him with all her weight, but he was a stone, anchoring her, but holding her hands tight enough that even as she leaned all the way back, she stayed upright.

“ _C’mon_ , JJ!” she entreated, and he grinned up at her.

“ _What_ , Kie?” he asked, tugging her upright before she tipped over in spite of herself.

“Dance with us!” she demanded, then suddenly leaned forward so that her lips were at his ear, and suddenly he was full of the scent of summer, the ocean, and something light and floral and –

“Look at them, JJ – these poor kids have _no moves._ Let’s show ‘em how we do in the OBX!” she said as she pulled back just enough to look at him, grinning.

 _Fuck_.

“Well, never let it be said I’d pass up a chance to school some Tourons,” he said, and she beamed, standing up to pull him up.

Once he was upright, she only let one of his hands go, pulling him along, leading him to the light and heat and music. 


End file.
